


Doesn't take much

by MusicalDefiance



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hair trigger, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, cuz it's been a hell of a dry spell, heh... coming, just helping his boyfriend out, this has been a long time coming tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 11:54:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15751161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalDefiance/pseuds/MusicalDefiance
Summary: “Ryuji…” Akira chokes, deciding to try and meet his gaze now. “Please, I’m sorry, I’ll go to the bathroom and stop complaining, just please get off…”...Get off, huh? Well, he might do something like that, but maybe not exactly what Akira’s asking for.





	Doesn't take much

**Author's Note:**

  * For [canticle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/canticle/gifts).



> Hhhhhhhhhhhhh this took too long but I did my best anyways.
> 
> Super happy birthday to Canticle! I'm sorry that this has taken me all day to do, but I remember like a month or two ago you were begging me to write some hair trigger Akira, so here it is! Lmao
> 
> Real talk, you're honest to god my favorite fan fiction writer, and the fact that I've gotten to become friends with you is something I cherish so deeply. You're hilarious and fun and you're way too much like me, but I love and adore you endlessly for it. I hope that this is even half as good as what you wrote me for my birthday, and I really hope you like it. May your birthday be even an ounce as wonderful as you, even if you only have a few hours of it left (sorry about that OTL).

Akira is  _ really _ grumpy today— it’s not terribly uncommon for him, but it’s definitely enough to be noticeable.

It’s one of the only things on Ryuji’s mind as he sits next to him on his bed, watching his boyfriend’s face through his peripherals as he mindlessly plays through the video game on the screen a few feet away. His eyebrows furrow and one of them twitches a bit as he falls into a pit  _ again _ , another agitated sigh escaping his lips as the game forces him to start back from the beginning of the level. Ryuji’s not used to seeing him do so badly. Akira’s far from the most talented at video games (at least if how their one on ones usually go tells him anything), but this is a whole new level of bad. It’s like he’s barely paying attention, missing all sorts of cues that he normally would see from a mile away.

Video games aren’t the only thing Akira’s been messing up though. Ryuji’s attentive enough to have noticed that much.

He's being sloppy in everything he does. He’s not paying attention in school, his forehead covered in welts from chalk plus Ann’s laughter being a large enough indicator. His decisions in the Metaverse are rash and unprovoked, causing him to run blindly into danger and get his ass kicked as a result. Even just something as simple as him  _ walking _ doesn’t look right, his face an endless scowl while his hands are shoved into his pockets forcefully rather than cool and casual.

They haven’t been dating officially very long at all— it’s only been a month and three weeks (not that Ryuji’s keeping track) since the reality of their relationship smacked them both in the face with no mercy. Within that time though, and even before it, Ryuji’s managed to pick up on the quirks that make up Akira Kurusu. Sure, he’s definitely not  _ always  _ the perfectly cool and collected kid that he wants everyone to think he is, but that coolness is still a big part of his personality, and he’s not one to lose it all that often. Especially now with how frequently Ryuji’s around him, he can really tell when something isn’t sitting right with him. Everything about him doesn’t feel normal.

He’s not graceful, not smooth, not  _ Akira _ . And maybe Ryuji isn’t giving him enough credit or doesn’t know him as well as he thinks he does, but it’s certainly been prominent enough to know that at least  _ something _ is up.

Whatever that something is, it’s been going on long enough to make him worry.

“God damnit…” Akira breathes as the screen darkens yet again with a “Game Over” display. He drops the controller, pushing his hands against his face and raising up his glasses with them as he groans.

“You alright?” Ryuji asks, raising his eyebrow.

Akira just sighs and drops his hands with a slap against his legs, “This game cheats, why the hell do you even have this one?”

Ryuji sits up, bringing his leg up to him on the mattress and leaning his body over it, “It’s not bad, you’re just suckin’ at it today. Ain't the game’s fault.”

“Wow, way to make me feel better about it.” Akira says with an eye roll and a chuckle. “Really feeling on top of the world now.”

“Hey, what’s up with you today anyways?” Ryuji asks, slinging an arm around Akira’s back. “You’ve been actin’ kinda funny lately. Is somethin’ up? You mad at Mona or Boss or something?”

Akira huffs, “No, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, and I’m the king of the United States. You wanna try bein’ honest this time?”

“America isn’t a monarchy, Ryuji.”

“You say that like I give a damn about it, or know what that word even means. What’s wrong with you?” he repeats, shaking him with his wrapped arm.

Akira pouts and crosses his arms, turning his head towards the wall. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Most of the time I feel like you’re a pretty good liar, but you definitely aren’t one today, man,” he says, leaning his face closer to him. “Come on, at least let me know if there’s something I can do to cheer you up. You want me to get a different game in the system? Or you wanna watch a movie or somethin’? You know I got tons still that we haven’t gotten to.”

“I’m not really in the mood for that stuff,” he says. “I think the games especially have scorned me long enough.”

“Okay… well,” and Ryuji’s suddenly got an idea, a grin catching itself on his face. “Are you in the mood for somethin’ else?” he suggests, pushing himself even closer to Akira’s face.

Akira moves towards Ryuji in response to his closer proximity, showing his face and letting one eyebrow cock itself in intrigue. “You got something in mind?”

He doesn’t even give a real answer, just slides his unoccupied hand up to the line of Akira’s jaw and pulls him towards him. Akira relents without even a second thought.

Kissing Akira is something he still considers to be a privilege, one that he’s not sure if he’s quite accepted as something he deserves. It may always feel that way to him, even when it’s been far more than just a month and a half that he’s gotten to do it, but he’s always going to deeply savor the feel of Akira’s lips against his own. He’s never kissed anyone before him, but even with nothing to compare them to he knows that they’re unbeatable. Nothing else could possibly be so perfectly fit to his own.

He can still feel Akira tensing defiantly next to him, his stubborn ass not wanting to give up his bad mood, but Ryuji’s intent on fixing that. He holds his face with his other hand more gingerly while his thumb skates against it, keeping him close with his arm still pulling against his shoulders and holding him right where he wants him. Akira is reactive to it, and Ryuji can only hope it’s a good thing, as his tightening muscles loosen just a touch and his lips go slack and open as he kisses him. Akira’s breathing a little harsher in between each of them, making tiny noises as Ryuji’s tongue pushes through his lips and explores his sweet mouth, and it’s crazy satisfying.

If there’s anything Ryuji loves beyond words, it’s the chance at making Akira breathless— the feeling that someone like  _ him _ can make someone like  _ Akira _ act like this.

He pushes more, loving the way that Akira swallows and has a little hitch in his breath while he grabs at Ryuji’s shirt, and he pulls him even closer while moving his leg against Akira’s. It’s never been this easy for him to get Akira to react this way, and he has to admit that it fuels his ego. Maybe all these makeouts have made him better than he thought he was at this stuff. Usually it’s Akira that’s got him wrapped around his finger, but this time it’s only been a minute and he’s half sure Akira might have to tap out. It’s kind of hilarious almost, but he doesn’t want to stop.

His hand reaches down from Akira’s face and grabs at his thigh, just to give him some more leverage as he leans closer to him. His thumb moves against the denim of Akira’s jeans, finding the seam in the middle and playing with it as he kisses him deeper—

All of a sudden Akira pulls away, letting out a garbled distressed noise as his body lurches forward out of nowhere.

Ryuji jolts back, eyes wide in surprise as he worriedly examines Akira. His face is red as a tomato, eyes closed and face scrunched up while his mouth is set in a grimace. The hands that were tied in his shirt are bunched and rough now, like he’s hanging onto the fabric for dear life. Just as soon as they were there though, he’s off of him, and he’s grabbing at the distressed wash of his jeans again and again and  _ again  _ like he’s trying to wring out his hands.

“Akira, are you okay?” he demands, leaning back in towards him. “I didn’t… did I hurt y—”

“ _ Please don’t touch me, _ ” he interrupts sharply, and Ryuji’s off of him as soon as the words leave his mouth. They weren’t harsh necessarily, but they were purposed, and that only drives Ryuji’s worries up even further as he listens to Akira breathe through his mouth in barely controlled breaths.

This certainly isn’t a normal conclusion for their makeouts. They’ve definitely been left with a lack of consciousness, the world around them fuzzy as they’re stuck trying to get their bodies to behave like normal again— hell, maybe he’s even a little more riled up sometimes than he cares to admit right now. But it’s  _ never  _ been like this. 

The concern and guilt that washes over him is impossible to reconcile. Did he do something wrong? Did he hurt Akira? Did he mess up so bad that Akira’s going to run off and never speak to him again? He guesses it wouldn’t be surprising if he’s already gone and messed up the best thing that ever happened to him. Wouldn’t be the first time, would it?

It takes another agonizing minute, but Akira finally starts to calm down, taking in a deep breath through his nose and letting it out in a long sigh as he shudders. Ryuji frowns when he does it, and Akira sees it on his face when he finally opens his eyes and looks at him guiltily through the frames of his glasses.

“S— sorry about that…” Akira says quietly, his face becoming more flush than it was even a moment ago.

Ryuji blinks, “Sorry? Wait…  _ you’re  _ sorry? Jesus, Akira, what the actual hell?” he presses, still trying to give Akira the room he needs but wanting to shake him for answers. “What did I do, did I mess somethin’ up? Like, shit man, did I like  _ hurt  _ you? Because I really wasn’t tryin’ to, I swear, I was just tryna—”

“You didn’t do anything wrong!” Akira speaks over him, his face softening and becoming incredibly genuine. “No, no, Ryuji I—  _ God _ , no you didn’t do anything, I promise.”

“Then what  _ was _ that?” he demands. “You like froze up and yelled and I got all effin’ worried about you. Like, you’re sure I didn’t do somethin’ wrong? I didn’t like touch somethin’ that hurt or anything, did I?”

The blush on Akira’s face suddenly grows darker, and he’s pointedly not looking at Ryuji anymore. “No, y-you didn’t hurt me…  _ That’s  _ not it…”

Ryuji growls, “Well then what  _ is  _ it? Dude, I need to know! Did I take things too far or somethin’?” He grabs at Akira’s leg and shakes it. “Did I—”

Akira jerks his leg away. “Hnn,  _ please don’t, _ ” he pleads, sucking in a breath through his mouth as he speaks.

Ryuji raises his eyebrows, suddenly very interested in that reaction, and as if they’re guided his eyes shoot straight down to Akira’s pants. Nothing about them seems abnormal, they’re the same light wash jeans that Akira always seems to be wearing, way too stylish of a look for how big of a dork he is, Ryuji thinks. But then his eyes shift over to where one of Akira’s hands is resting, his palm strategically placed over his crotch in an effort that should look casual, but with this new action seems a bit more suspicious. He squints as he eyes it, trying to see if there’s anything really worth hiding at all, and his eyebrows jump up when he starts to notice there’s a slightly darker patch in that area in comparison to the rest of the denim.

His mouth dries when the implications of it hit him.

“Akira did you just…” he starts, not really sure if he can get it out. “Did you just effin’... did you  _ come? _ ”

Instantly Akira groans, reaching over to the side of the bed and grabbing a pillow to throw over his face. He pushes it into his head as he yells out a noise of frustration, his grip on the tan pillow case so tight that his knuckles are starting to turn white.

The answer is pretty clear, and Ryuji’s not really sure how he should take it.

Nothing sexual has ever presented itself into their relationship until now. They haven’t been dating incredibly long now, and neither have really pushed too heavily to reach that point. That isn’t to say Ryuji hasn’t  _ thought _ about it at least once or twice, or well, maybe more than once or twice if he’s being honest, but this isn’t exactly the way he pictured their first encounter with it would be.

He’s had fantasies in his head, plans that he wanted to try maybe another few weeks down the line if he could build up the courage. He didn’t think Akira would ever be easy enough to get off from just a kiss.

“Um… I’m sorry?”

Akira just groans and puts the pillow down against his legs, decidedly keeping it away from his crotch. “S’not your fault…”

“I mean, isn’t it though?” he asks, placing both of his hands at his sides on the mattress. “Like, jeez dude, wouldn’t have thought that you were  _ that  _ easy to please.” He leans in with a sly grin, “Or am I just that good?.”

Akira lets out a huffy laugh, “Don’t start getting cocky, s’not like that.”

“Then care to let me know what the hell that was about?” he inquires, cocking an eyebrow.

Akira sighs, shaking his head. “It’s really dumb to be honest. Like, I’m already pretty embarrassed that happened.”

“Yeah, but  _ we’re  _ pretty dumb, so I bet it’s not as bad as you think.”

Akira laughs again, but he still won’t look at Ryuji and his blush gets deeper. He’s fidgeting with the fabric of the pillowcase in his hands, keeping his shameful gaze on that instead. It’s a cute look for him, Ryuji thinks, even if he doesn’t like that downtrodden look on his face.

“It’s just… it’s been  _ weeks _ .”

“Weeks? Weeks since what?” Ryuji asks, leaning forward on his hands so he can see Akira’s face better.

“Since uh, you know. Since I’ve been able to…” He’s fidgeting the pillowcase incessantly now, eyes staring at it with a look of dismay.

Ryuji’s eyes go wide, the puzzle pieces starting to click into their places. “Wait… you mean—  _ Akira.  _ It’s been  _ weeks  _ since you’ve been able to get off?”

He doesn’t answer verbally, but Ryuji gets a small nod as an answer.

“Dude, what the  _ hell! _ ” he shouts.

“Don’t be so loud about it!” Akira shushes, shooting him a small glare. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

But it is— Ryuji can’t even  _ begin  _ to imagine holding out that long. He’s not addicted to jerking off,  _ he’s not _ , but he can’t lie to himself and say it isn’t something he likes to do— rather frequently at that. It’s a stress reliever, something to help take his mind off of frustrating things and in one way or another, practice a form of self care. It’s not the only way he can relax, but it’s definitely one of the main ways he does.

To even picture not letting himself rub one out at least once a week is completely asinine to him.

“So that’s why you’ve been so damn grumpy lately, cuz you’ve been pent up as hell.” he says, throwing his arm lightly around his boyfriend’s shoulders, thankfully only receiving a small shudder from it. “Akira, why the hell are you torturin’ yourself like that?”

“It’s  _ definitely  _ not by choice.” he grumbles, his voice low and agitated. “It’s been so hot, and Morgana never leaves the attic. He used to go out a lot at night during the spring, which gave me plenty of time to, you know,  _ take care of things _ , but he’s been staying inside all summer. Not to mention that all that’s between me and a bunch of customers and Sojiro is a set of stairs and no door, so I can’t do anything while the cafe’s open. I’m not gunna do it at school cuz that’s fucking gross, same with the bathhouse. I’m kind of just… out of options I guess.”

“Dude… That’s _ terrible. _ I can’t believe you’ve been stuck like that. Why didn’t you tell me?”

He laughs openly at that, “Why would I tell you? It’s so embarrassing, I should be able to handle it.” One hand goes into his hair and starts fiddling with a lock in front of his face. “Besides, we haven’t really talked about anything like that; I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Ryuji blushes fiercely. He’s definitely right, they haven’t talked about it. Regardless of when Ryuji thinks about it or how often, it’s definitely never been something to come up between them. All things considered, he’s still pretty new to all of this in general; pretty much any and all intimacy is a new experience for him. He’s never had to think about it before, because no one’s ever granted him the experience.

He wouldn’t consider himself a prude, not really, but it is a little jarring sometimes. Even still, the last thing he wants is for Akira to think that he’s bothered by it. In fact, if anything, he’s more than happy to talk about  _ anything  _ that means he gets to touch and hold Akira more.

They were going to have this conversation eventually— better late than never, right?

“I’m not uncomfortable, it’s fine.” he reassures him, glancing down at Akira nervously and biting the bottom of his lip. “Shit happens, you can’t really control that. If anything, I’m sorry I got you all worked up—  if I’d known… Like hell, you should’a just asked to use the bathroom or somethin’, I wouldn’t have cared.”

“It’s really fine.” Akira says, and he sighs, pushing the pillow off of his legs. “I’m sorry, this is really fucking embarrassing.” he says, grabbing at his forehead with his hand.

And there it is again— Akira’s frustrated, arguably more so than he already was earlier. It makes Ryuji scowl.

That’s when it starts to hit him that,  _ shit _ , Akira hasn’t gotten off in  _ actual weeks _ . This whole time he’s been all irritable and mad because he’s been stressed out and hasn’t had the opportunity to get over it. And now he has, for the first time in about a month, in the most embarrassing and unsatisfying way possible. Hell if it were him, he would be pretty pissed too.

Not to mention, in the grand scheme of it all, it’s really his fault, isn’t it?

“I guess I should get going, I don’t wanna have to sit in this all night.” Akira groans, starting to push himself off the mattress.

Like a reflex, Ryuji’s mind kicks into fight mode.

“Whoa whoa, hold up.” Ryuji says, grabbing Akira’s arm and pulling him back down, earning a yelp from the other teen. “You don’t gotta leave. I have pants ‘n shit you can change into, I don’t care.”

“Ryuji—”

“I don’t  _ care! _ ” Ryuji repeats, pulling Akira down harder as he feels him try to stand up again. Suddenly he’s underneath him; Ryuji’s got him pinned at his sides by his arms on the bed while Akira looks up at him, wide-eyed and annoyed.

“Ryuji, get off!” he shouts.

“Not a chance.” he says, tightening his grip while he feels Akira struggle underneath him. He’s basically sitting on him now, placing his butt right on top of his legs the second he has Akira’s body straightened out underneath him. “‘M not gunna let you go home just cuz you’re all embarrassed and shit, it’s not a big deal.”

“You’re not the one sitting in— Ugh, whatever, just  _ get off! _ ”

“I already told you I got shit you can change into, jeez. God you’re stubborn as hell.”

“I’m not really in the mood to deal with this, Ryuji.” Akira argues, glaring up at him red faced while Ryuji stares back down defiantly. “I’m tired, I just wanna go home now. I’m not mad at you or anything, but I’m sure as hell  _ gunna _ be if you don’t get off me!”

“And what are you gunna do at home, huh?” he asks leaning closer to Akira’s face as he struggles underneath him again. “Go home and just sulk cuz I gave you a shitty ass orgasm and not be able to feel better cuz you got Mona on your ass all night? I don’t effin’ think so.”

Akira’s red down to his collarbone in an instant, “You didn’t—!”

“We can pretend all day long like I didn’t man, but I did.” he interrupts, hovering over him with a slightly amused grin. He’s not used to seeing Akira so worked up and embarrassed, and maybe he should feel bad, but it’s admittedly pretty funny. “I didn’t mean to I guess, but it happened, and now you’re in a shitty mood and I feel like I gotta take responsibility for that.”

Akira pouts and looks away, “It wasn’t your fault…”

“Yeah well, doesn’t matter. I’m not gunna let you go home like this. Just chill out and I’ll get ya some pants and you can go clean up or whatever. Okay?”

Akira pauses, still not looking up at him, but his face is scrunched up and pouty. “...Fine, but could you please  _ at least  _ get off of me now?  _ Please? _ ”

“Still bein’ whiny, eh?” he chides, giving his nose a quick peck before shuffling his body backwards to move off him.

But then Akira lets out a noise, one that’s low and throaty and sounds like it was ripped from his chest. It’s different from the one he made earlier, but it definitely still has elements from the first. Ryuji pauses, looking at Akira’s face which has now turned red as a cherry candy, one small bead of sweat forming at his forehead while his face scrunches and he pointedly looks anywhere  _ but  _ at Ryuji.

He doesn’t know what compels him to do it, but he shifts again just slightly against Akira’s legs, and Akira makes that noise again, one arm yanking itself up from Ryuji’s slightly loosened grip to grab at his mouth. He sounds like he’s breathing through his hand, desperately trying to calm himself as he takes in uneven gasps of air.

Ryuji then becomes very aware of a small pressure pushing against the side of his thigh through his jeans.

Oh.  _ Oh. _

So it’s really just that easy right now, huh?

“Ryuji…” Akira chokes, deciding to try and meet his gaze now. “Please, I’m sorry, I’ll go to the bathroom and stop complaining, just  _ please  _ get off…”

Ryuji’s at a crossroad now, two paths lying in front of him, one of which he never thought he’d have gotten to this quickly. He’s contemplative, eyeing Akira’s frantic expression, the embarrassed and frustrated look on his face. In any other situation it would be frightening, seeing him missing that control, the snarky and cocky Joker-like confidence that usually permeates his being, but right now it’s just intriguing. It’s like opening his eyes to a new world of expression from Akira, and he’s intensely interested to see if he can take it any further.

His heart is beating like crazy, and he can feel a nervous sweat pooling at the back of his neck as the blood starts to rush into his face, but that’s not enough to stop the bad decisions he wants to make.

Get off, huh? Well, he might do  _ something  _ like that, but maybe not exactly what Akira’s asking for.

“Nah.” he answers, voice shakier than he wants it to be. He keeps a firm hold on Akira’s other arm while carefully grabbing his other hand back from his face and pinning it beside Akira’s head, leaning down so close to him that they’re only inches apart. His breath skates across his face. “Nah, I don’t think I will.”

“R-Ryuji...?” Akira hiccups, eyes going wide. “What’re you—”

Ryuji doesn’t give him a chance to finish, his lips falling onto Akira’s mid-sentence and swallowing his words. Akira’s quickly fighting back underneath him, only letting him kiss him that one time before pulling away.

“Ryuji, stop!” he whines with a frustrated grimace, “If you start this up, I’m gunna—”

“Yeah, that’s kind of the idea.” he chuckles with a nervous grin, and Akira’s left speechless. “I mean, there ain't no Mona here, no Boss downstairs, mom ain’t gunna be back for a while either. It’s just you and me against the world.”

Akira’s biting his lip, failing to keep himself calm. “Ryuji…” he starts, his voice wavering. “We haven’t talked about this yet. You don’t have to do this just because I… because I can’t…”

“I don’t  _ have  _ to, but what if I  _ want  _ to?” he challenges, and Akira’s mouth falls slightly agape as his eyes shoot wide open. It makes him look adorably innocent and Ryuji wishes he could have a picture of it saved on his phone so he never has to forget it. “Can’t really call myself a good boyfriend if I let my best guy go on feelin’ like this, huh? The least I can do is help you out.”

Akira looks away from him, “I can’t ask you to do that…”

Ryuji smiles, “I’m not tellin’ you to. You always take care of me and the rest of the team, and you don’t ever take enough time for yourself. So maybe someone needs to take care of  _ you _ for once. Guess if it’s gunna be anyone, may as well be me, right?” he says with a shrug. “‘Sides, I’m the only one that can do this kinda shit with you; that is, if you want me to.”

The silence that follows is nerve wracking. Ryuji can hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears, can feel every bit of the swallow he makes as he stares down at Akira, his eyes still looking away and squinting. He can’t read them the way he usually can, but he looks like he’s having to register and analyze every small aspect of what’s come between them now. It’s a little scary, this is a pretty significant step for them presenting itself out of nowhere, but Ryuji’s feeling overly confident in himself for once, possibly more than he should. It’s more than just a little challenge now, it’s a mission.

He just wants to make Akira feel better— just wants to hear him make those noises again. But of course, he’s only going to do that if Akira’s okay with it.

He just hopes that maybe, for once, Akira will actually let Ryuji do something for _ him _ .

Akira lets out a shuddering exhale. “...Okay.”

Ryuji blinks, “Okay? You sure?”

Akira nods, “Okay... I trust you.”

Ryuji grins stupidly wide, confidence surging through his veins, and he leans down again to take Akira’s much more cooperative lips. That act alone already grants him a tiny, needy whimper, and it’s more than enough to get him excited despite all the nerves screaming in his body.

“I got you, babe.” he says sweetly, kissing him again between his words. “Don’t worry about a thing, I’ve got you.”

Akira doesn’t get a chance to respond before Ryuji’s lips are back on his again, kissing him soft and sweet and licking the inside of his mouth the way he knows Akira likes while trying to not put too much pressure on his lower half. He doesn’t want this to go down the way it did last time. Akira should be able to enjoy himself, to actually let himself get worked up before he has to let go again, and Ryuji’s going to make it last, so long as he can help it. No accidents this time, this all has to be with a purpose.

In almost no time Akira’s moving against him, letting Ryuji keep his arms pinned (he’d forgotten he was even still holding him) and rolling his hips against his, hungrily. Ryuji can’t help the low groan he makes when he feels Akira rubbing against him, and it makes him want to get through this as fast as he possibly can to feed that craving for satisfaction building within him. His conscience kicks in though, and he keeps things going slow, using his legs and tightening them around Akira so he can’t move as much anymore. He has to be in control here, he can’t let Akira jump to the end again.

He starts to move away from his lips, kissing along the inside of his jaw and his neck. He can feel the vibrations of Akira’s groans against his lips as he does so, once or twice experimentally lavishing his tongue across his skin. It’s things he’s done before, and certainly ones that Akira’s done to him, but in this new context it feels different, and Akira is certainly more reactive than usual to it.

It’s enjoyable; Ryuji’s always liked the little things about when they get “intimate” more than any bigger picture he could ever bring himself to imagine. He likes how soft Akira’s skin feels against his lips, how he can feel him swallow while he’s against his throat, how he can hear the little gasps and hitches in his breath as he lavishes him. It’s really all he could ever ask for, the only thing he’s ever really craved or needed from Akira up to this point.

This won’t be satisfying enough though, and he knows that. He has to take steps he’s never taken before.

Any step forward is him working on auto-pilot, only going off of what little instincts he can manage. While one hand stays clenched in Akira’s, pressing it into the mattress while Akira grasps it back for dear life, his other lets go of Akira’s arm and goes rogue, reaching down and finding the bottom hem of his black t-shirt. His fingers sneak underneath it and push it up with the rest of his hand, the pads of his fingers tracing the expanse of Akira’s torso with feathery light touches. Unexpectedly Akira moans, pushing his top half up to meet the rest of Ryuji’s hand, and Ryuji greets him by using the whole of it to caress Akira’s sides, back and forth. He’s so warm and soft, like always, and the feeling is pretty addicting.

While he doesn’t want to take things too far too fast, he can’t help but pity the noises Akira is making and how fruitlessly he tries to push against him. So his hand moves down, finding the waistband of Akira’s pants and locating the buckle of his belt, leaving his neck and sitting himself up on top of Akira— to his small protest —as he fiddles with the belt and unclasps it. It’s only another second before he slides it off and chucks it into the floor.

“This still okay?” he asks cautiously.

Akira doesn’t look at him, making Ryuji nervous, but he ends up nodding regardless.

“I trust you.”

That’s all he needs to keep going.

Without even thinking his hands are moving, unbuttoning jeans and pulling down zippers and shimmying down pants until all Akira’s left with is a thin set of boxers between the two of them. Ryuji can tell that they’re wet. Or something. He’s not really sure how to describe it, but it makes his blush creep up even worse than it already was. Pushing past that, he moves his hands on autopilot and pulls the waistband of them down, exposing Akira to the stale air of his bedroom.

Welp.

To say that things are messy isn’t really accurate, but it’s obvious that Akira’s been a bit… compromised. Ignoring all that though, it’s almost startling to just  _ see  _ Akira’s cock like this. He’d never really thought about it before, realizing he’s never really  _ tried  _ to imagine how it would appear or what he would think about it. But there it is, in the middle of his bedroom, looking at him like it’s ready and able.

He’s definitely flustered by it, if nothing else. It’s both everything and nothing like he imagined this would be. Everything and nothing like he _ wanted _ this to be. It’s so intimidating in an instant, and he doesn’t even realize that he’s just sitting there staring at Akira’s dick like an idiot for at least ten seconds.

He can hear Akira’s breathing grow shallow a bit as a laugh escapes him, “Does it look that bad or something?”

Bad? Not really, in fact he can’t really find a way to describe it. It’s just kind of  _ weird _ , but only in the sense that it’s all new to him, and he’s never really had a dick in front of his face other than his own. If it was his dick, it would be totally normal, but it’s not, so it’s  _ really fucking weird _ .

But it shouldn’t be, and the longer that he’s quiet he feels bad, so he surges up all the knowledge of last night’s lot of pornography verbiage that he can remember and blurts out, “Just admiring my new toy.”

Akira looks at him for the first time in minutes, his stare deadpan and incredulous. “Your  _ what? _ ”

Shit, nope. “Don’t worry about it, man!” he says, shaking his head. “Just… hang on, I can—”

“Ryuji,” Akira starts, sitting up some on his elbows, “if this is too much we don’t have to—”

“ _ I got this! _ ” he shoots back. And maybe he actually doesn’t, but all be damned if he isn’t about to try anyways.

Whatever little instinct in this situation he has left brings him to reach his hand out and grab him. It’s such a foreign feeling, and he’s definitely not used to touching a dick and not feeling anything from it in the process. It’s slick still from the little accident earlier, and the second his hand wraps around it he can feel Akira throb underneath his palm. It startles him back a little, especially when Akira instantly lets out a shivery whine and falls back on the bed as soon as he does. His hand stays still, registering the feeling while still not being able to focus on much else for a moment.

A second passes and Akira groans, “Ryuji,  _ hnn _ , are you gunna--?”

“Sh-shit, sorry!”

He’s not really sure what to do from here on, but he just thinks about what he would do if it were him underneath his skin. So he takes that idea, sits a little more properly on top of Akira’s thighs, and starts moving his hand up and down. It glides easily, more so than he’s used to with himself, and aside from the oddness of doing such a thing while not getting any of the stimulation from it, he doesn’t dislike the way it feels.

Akira clearly doesn’t dislike it either. Within seconds his back is arching against the matress underneath him, head pressing backwards into the pillows it’s resting on while his hair goes everywhere. He’s breathing heavily through his mouth, at least when there aren’t the same shivering little cries escaping through his throat. It’s also kind of amazing just how red his face has gotten in such a short amount of time.

To say Ryuji’s entranced is an understatement. He’s finding his mouth slack in awe at the sights in front of him. He’s  _ never  _ in his life seen Akira like this, not even  _ half  _ like this, and yet he’s watching it with his own two eyes. It takes a long moment for him to realize that  _ he’s _ the one making it happen.

That thought delights him beyond belief.

He moves his body off of Akira’s legs, not nearly as concerned with keeping him from moving anymore, and lays on his side next to him so that he can pepper kisses onto his face again as he goes about his business. Akira whines as he does, his hips starting to buck up into Ryuji’s hand on their own volition. Ryuji laughs when he makes a particularly pitiful face.

“Damn, if I knew I was this good I woulda started doin’ this shit a long time ago.” he chuckles against his jaw line.

Akira lets out a huff of air with another throaty groan, “You’re getting  _ ah _ — too  _ cocky _ ... _! _ ”

“Yeah, well  _ you’re _ getting close aint ya? So I think I’m doin’ something right.”

“Ryuji—  god  _ fuck! _ ” Akira yells, his breath suddenly hitching as he bucks again. His eyes close tight as he shoves his head back as far as he can, hardly able to contain himself anymore. It’s kind of incredible, arguably one of the most beautiful images Ryuji’s ever gotten to lay his eyes on. It makes him giddy in a way that he hasn’t felt before, and he can already tell that this is such a dangerous activity that he’s going to want to take part in all the time.

Making Akira breathless. Making Akira’s face red. Making Akira whine and moan and say his name like  _ that _ . He probably won’t be this easy to please most of the time, but like hell if he isn’t going to enjoy it while he can now.

“ _ Ryuji… _ ” Akira starts, turning into a shameless moan by the time he finishes the word, and it sends a shiver down Ryuji’s spine. “I can’t  _ ah _ — I can’t take much more I—”

“That’s fine.” he assures, moving up to kiss him on the lips before he can keep talking. Akira moans into his mouth just before he lifts away. “At least this time you’ll want to, yeah?”

Akira gasps in a breath before he speaks again, the words on his mouth so tiny that Ryuji can barely hear him. He’s gone into just sputtering, repeating something along the lines of “I wanna” over and over again.

Ryuji chuckles and kisses him again, “Anything you want, Akira.” And squeezes him just a little tighter with another hard thrust up and down. “ _ Anything _ .”

Ryuji definitely jumps when Akira finally reaches his limit, and he’s shouting out Ryuji’s name as he falls to pieces next to him. Ryuji’s face goes blazing hot in an instant, watching with wide eyes as Akira cries out while he comes in stripes in ribbons against his hand.

It’s another few seconds before Akira finally calms down, and Ryuji’s left there just staring at him with his mouth open. Eventually Akira looks at him through blissed and squinted eyes, face still red with small beads of sweat gathered against his forehead, and Ryuji can do nothing but just stare back like he’s lost any control of himself.

“Uh… Ryuji?” Akira asks between a few breaths.

“Hmm?” Ryuji hums, blinking once.

“Are you gunna, uh…” and his eyes peer down to his crotch.

“Oh shit!” he yelps, yanking his hand off of Akira’s settling cock. “S-sorry I was… I kinda lost focus there for a second.”

And like nothing, Akira’s laughing. The sound of it fills the room and it’s undeniably sweet. It’s the most relaxed sound Ryuji’s heard him make in days, maybe even weeks, and he can’t help but join in on it too. It’s such a good feeling, beyond anything else he could ever want or need, just to have Akira being an ounce of himself again.

They clean up afterwards, Akira all the more eager to make sure whatever’s left of their activities is purged from Ryuji’s skin, and before long Akira’s in new pants and underwear courtesy of Ryuji’s closet. They fit him way too well, better than they should, and Ryuji notes to himself that he really needs to get Akira into his clothes more often. It’s way too cute of an image to pass up. They lay back down together on the bed afterwards, Akira tucked up into Ryuji’s arms and under his chin while Ryuji draws circles against his back. He can feel that Akira’s so much looser, and the tiny content smile he can see on his face fills his heart with a joy he can barely describe.

“Wish you’d gone home now?” he asks, cockiness emanating through his tone.

“Maybe, if Sojiro was gone I might have been able to do that myself.”

“Wow, thanks for the confidence booster.” Ryuji huffs.

“I’m kidding!” Akira reassures with a laugh, sticking his head out from underneath him and giving him a chaste kiss on the lips. “Seriously, thank you. I honestly didn’t know how bad I needed that.”

“Yeah me either. Like holy hell, dude, I wish you had said something sooner. If I’d known all I had to do to make you feel better was  _ that _ , I would have done it forever ago.”

Akira sighs, “I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Like no one else would have wanted to know about it, and things are still kinda new so I…” he shakes his head. “I just didn’t want you to think I was pushing you into something you didn’t want.”

Ryuji chuckles and blushes, “Yeah… some hell of a first time, huh? That’s not really how I imagined that going.”

“Yeah me either, I thought I was gunna be the first one for sure.” Akira says with a smirk.

Ryuji raises an eyebrow, “Oh yeah?”

He nods, “Yeah, I had all these plans and everything. It was bound to be a real crowd pleaser.” he adds with a wink.

Ryuji laughs, “Ha, I guess you’ll have to show me some time, huh?”

“Well, since I know where we stand on this, how would right about now sound?” he asks, suddenly sitting up on his arms with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Wait wh—”

He doesn’t even get a chance to finish before Akira’s ravishing his lips, and thus the night continues on.

**Author's Note:**

> How easy is it to tell I don't write smut often. All in due time I suppose.


End file.
